


Business or Pleasure?

by heckhansol



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckhansol/pseuds/heckhansol
Summary: You're a cardiac surgeon and Seungcheol is the new nurse on your floor at the hospital. You've been eyeing each other for almost a month, but it seems that today he's finally done waiting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For @jicheolftw on Tumblr

“You’re drooling.”

            You startle and drop your pen. It falls with a clack onto your clipboard before rolling off the counter towards the LPN sitting at his desk in front of you. Jeonghan picks it up and hands it back.

            You take it, suppressing a blush. “No I’m not.”

            “Practically,” he says, tucking his bangs back. “I bet he can feel you staring.”

            You glance over at the object of your gaze again. Choi Seungcheol, the new nurse on your floor, is busy at the medicine cart, picking through bottles for whatever another doctor asked for. When he bends down to look on the second shelf, his black scrubs stretch taut over his broad shoulders and show the faint outlines of well-toned muscles. Though he’s been working here for almost a month now, you’ve barely talked to him save for a quick _Patient in room forty-two is due for an IV change_ , or _Watch room twelve on his oxy intake_. Work stuff. Medical stuff. Very unsexy stuff. And always followed by a deep _Yes, Doctor._ You don’t like to admit to yourself what that voice makes you feel under your skin.

            And Jeonghan has been giving you hell about it ever since Seungcheol introduced himself on his first day.

            You force yourself to break your gaze at the nurse and instead throw a look at Jeonghan. “I don’t stare.”

            Jeonghan leans on his elbow and lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

            “No,” you say petulantly.

            “Look, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I do it too. He’s divinely created. But okay—let’s give it a new word then. You gawk. You awe. You fantasize about what exactly he would do to you if—”

            “ _Shut up_ ,” you hiss, turning and facing the hallway.

            Seungcheol seems to have found the medicine he was looking for. He walks past the desk and nods politely at the two of you, meeting your eyes and smiling halfway. “Good morning, Doctor.”

            You stammer. “S—yes, um. Good morning.” You try to smile back.

            He watches you for a moment, full lips still curved up on one side, before continuing down the hallway.

            “Yikes,” Jeonghan says.

            You close your eyes and heave a sigh, turning back around and putting your face in your hands. “God…”

            “When are you just going to let him take a bite? If he looked at me that way I’d be all over him in a second. You’re going to have to let him fuck you some day. Or at least take you out.” Jeonghan waves his hand as if saying it like that will make it the easiest thing in the world. “How long will it take?”

            You frown and adjust your coat. “Until I’m not one of the most important people on this floor.”

            Jeonghan scoffs. “Just because you’re lead surgeon doesn’t mean you can get a big head about it.” His expression darkens and he smirks. “Actually, on the topic, I bet _he’s_ got a big—”

            “Can you just give me my schedule for today, please?” you say, glad you cut him off from the rest of that train of thought.

            Jeonghan chuckles and turns to his computer. “Soon enough, Y/N. He’ll have you writhing.”

            You try to ignore the heat that puts in your belly. You can’t come up with a snarky retort, so you say nothing.

            “Okay,” Jeonghan says, clicking through the floor schedule. “You’re due in the OR in about an hour. Got a stent for that businessman. Coronary at thirty-five.” He tisks and shakes his head.

            “And that’s why we try not to stress so much,” you say to him, implying with your tone that he is the sole source of your utmost distress.

            Jeonghan gives you a pretty smile and says in a singsongy voice, “Don’t get your panties in a wad, honey. Get them on the floor.”

            You widen your eyes at him and grab your clipboard, coat trailing out behind you as you escape down the hallway.

 

The empty doctors’ lounge still has its perpetual stale coffee smell when you step out of the restroom in your scrubs for surgery. Of course it’s empty—no one ever wishes you luck on your surgery. Good thing you don’t need it.

            You put your bag down on a chair and go to the sink. You’ll have to wash at the one outside the OR when you get there, but you always double wash before a surgery. Some superstition about being extra clean. Jeonghan often shoves hand lotion at you when you walk by.

            You grimace at the coffee rings on the counter as you scrub your hands almost up to your elbows. This time you’re allowed to pat them dry with paper towels, which you discard into the trash bin.

            _Soon enough. He’ll have you writhing_.

            No. Absolutely not. The last thing you need in your head right now is Jeonghan’s prophetic words ringing around. He’s sort of right, though—it will be soon enough. Soon enough that you finally get over this childish crush and move on with your life. Not that you have much of a life outside of this hospital—no real boyfriend since Mingyu broke up with you a few months into your medical school. That was a long time ago. You can’t really blame him anyway. You weren’t much of a girlfriend or a friend. All you are now is a doctor. That, and the object of Jeonghan’s constant berating about your sex life.

            You sigh and grab one more paper towel, using it to open the door to the hallway so you can head over to the OR. You’re a little early, like usual. You’ll probably help set up the—

            You freeze as you’re turning the threshold of the door. _Slick,_ you think. _Now he’ll definitely notice you_.

            Seungcheol is not ten meters away, walking down the hallway in your direction. He smiles kindly and bows his head. You shuffle your feet a little, trying to get yourself to move, and then, discreetly, he puts a hand up: _Stop._

            You do, clutching the paper towel tightly in your hand. He approaches.

            “Hello, Doctor.”

            You blink at him, just in front of you now. “Uh, hello.”

            He tilts his head sideways and says, “Is it weird if I say you look hot in scrubs?”

            “Excuse—”

            One of his hands grips your arm while the other pushes open the door behind you. You drop the paper towel and find yourself stumbling backward into the lounge before you have time to finish your sentence. You stand there in shock as he bolts the door behind him.

            “What are you doing?”

            He gives you a look like that’s a very silly question. “Come on, Y/N. It’s been long enough. Do you want this? Say no if you need to.”

            You just gape at him for a moment. Okay, so it’s finally happening. Obviously you want it. The heat building in your belly just from the way he’s looking at you, eyes trailing up and down your body, is enough to let you know that you’ve wanted this since you laid eyes on him. But…protocol. There aren’t hospital rules against coworker relations, but you’re a moral person. Right? You wouldn’t just do it in the middle of the lounge with the new nurse.

            _Right?_

            You say, nearly a whisper, “Fuck.”

            Seungcheol laughs lowly. “Is that a yes or…?”

            You bring a hand to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut, totally conflicted between your job and your feelings. “Um…I don’t…”

            “Look, if it’s that hard of a decision then maybe I’m overstepping my bounds.” He reaches for the lock. “I apologize for—”

            “No, wait.”

            He stops. He turns back around like he was already expecting to. He waits for you to keep talking.

            You sigh, and you cave. “Okay. Yes, Seungcheol. But we have to—”

            His arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you. You yelp and hold on to him, squeezing your thighs tight around his hips. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name,” he says. “Now what was it you were saying?”

            “We…” You swallow hard. “We have to be quick.”

            His smirk is wicked. His hands squeeze your thighs and he says, “Quick is not one of my specialties.” He starts walking.

            “But I have an operation in—”

            “Twenty minutes,” he says, and sets you down on one of the tables.

            “Well, that means fifteen.”

            He steps close between your legs, leaning his hands on the table beside your hips and bringing his face close to yours. “Jeonghan warned me you could be stubborn.”

            Your mouth opens in surprise before you realize you aren’t really surprised at all. You look sideways away from Seungcheol’s searing gaze. “He’s—don’t listen to Jeonghan.”

            Seungcheol tilts his head and hums. “Something a stubborn person might say about their friend.”

            You’re about to roll your eyes until he grips your waist and pulls your hips up against his, sliding you on the table. You reflexively put your hands on his shoulders for balance and immediately regret it. He’s _so muscular_ under his scrubs. You have the sudden urge to run your hands down his strong arms and feel every dip and curve, but you hold yourself back.

            It’s like he knows you do. “Go ahead,” he says.

            You look into his eyes, inches from yours. “I…”

            He chuckles. “You will.” His hands go to the waistband of your scrub pants and tug in a swift, harsh motion. You gasp and hold tight to his upper arms, obediently moving your legs so he can get your pants off. You watch him drop them to the floor.

            His eyebrows raise and he stares for a second before lifting his gaze up your body to look at you. “Really, Doctor? Red lace?”

            You blush close to the same color as your underwear. “It’s…” Truthfully, you’ve been so busy that you haven’t been able to do laundry for two weeks and pretty much all you had left were the date night set—those things you haven’t worn for what feels like ages. Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself. Maybe you’ve been ready for this for longer than you thought. “It’s not…”

            “No need to explain, gorgeous. I hope the top matches.”

            You accidentally laugh, then shut your mouth fast.

            “What?” he asks, running his hands along your thighs.

            You shake your head, trying not to think about the feeling of his hands smooth along your skin. “Nothing. Gorgeous.” You shake your head again.

            His hands dip a little lower inside your thighs. You bite down on your lip and stare into his face. “You are,” he says. “And just so you know, you’re also allowed to enjoy this. You’re tense.” He squeezes your thighs briefly. “Loosen up a little, hm? I’m not the only one with hands here, and I’m not the only one who wants this badly.”

            He’s right. You are very tense—your whole life you’re always tense. And you do also want him badly. You can imagine what his deep comment would be if he noticed the wetness forming in your red lace.

            You tentatively bring your hands down to the hem of his shirt, making him smile. “Okay, well…you take something off then.”

            “As you wish,” he says, and lifts his arms. You miss the feeling of his hands on your thighs immediately, but you take the time to pull his shirt over his head, letting it drop with your pants.

            Your turn to stare. _Jesus. Divinely created was right_. Seungcheol is lithely muscular, in far better shape than anyone else around here, including all of the doctors. You remember what he said, and you bring your hands back to his chest.

            You feel his muscles, running your hands across his chest and down his sides, in towards his abs and back up. You say quietly, “This is so unsanitary.”

            He laughs and you feel his abs move under your hands. “I think dirty is the word you’re looking for.”

            You blush again, dipping your fingers into the shadows on his body.

            “That tickles,” he says, watching your face.

            “Yeah well…where do you get the time to do this?”

            He shrugs, putting his hands back on your thighs. “You’re the doctor here. I actually get the chance to work out every morning. I lift a lot of patients, you know?”

            You’re only sort of listening. Half of your brain is somewhere else. Honestly, it’s in Seungcheol’s pants. “Yeah,” you breathe out.

            He smirks and his right hand snakes its way to your hips. He plays with the edge of your panties and you meet his eyes again. He says, “Now, I know you’re all business, so…” He slips his fingers past the edge of the lace. “How often do you get time for pleasure?”

            You still your hands on his chest. You feel instinctively like closing your legs, but his hips are in the way. Probably to your benefit and his advantage. “Not very.”

            “No husband? Boyfriend?” His left hand is squeezing into the thickest part of your thigh, the first two fingers of his right inching downward.

            You can only shake your head in answer.

            “Very good.” His fingers press against your clit, slipping downward agonizingly slowly.

            You draw in a shaky breath and press your fingertips into his chest. “S-Seungcheol.”

            “You’re very wet, Doctor. Is this how you always are when you think of me?”

            Despite your embarrassment, you can’t look away from his eyes. “I—I don’t—”

            “Yes you do. I know you stare. I can feel your eyes on me from across the floor. You think about me when you’re here at work and you get to see me. Do you think about me when you’re alone, too? In the middle of the night when you wake up aching for someone’s touch?” His fingers rub in agonizing circles, his left hand pressing hard into your thigh. “Do you wonder how I would touch you? How I would feel inside you? Do you pleasure yourself and wish that it was me?”

            Your body is too hot already, and his words and the depth of his voice and the way he gazes unashamed into your eyes… _fuck_. “Seungcheol, I—” His fingers slip inside you, pushing fully to his hand. Your mouth opens and you find your hands moving of their own will, sliding around his chest and wrapping around his back. “ _Oh_. Seungcheol, you…” You can only breathe heavily and moan again at the pleasure.

            “Shh. They’ll know where you are,” he lilts, face coming close to yours but never touching.

            You do your best to glare up at him. “This is the doctors’ lounge. You—you’re not even supposed to be in here.”

            He only smirks at you. “Better keep quiet then.”

            Half a second goes by for you to think that the walls and doors of hospitals like this are pretty thick before he curls his fingers without warning, drawing a loud moan from you, which you choke back as soon as you can. “ _Seungcheol. Ah…_ ” You can’t keep your chin up to look at him. Your forehead drops against his shoulder, firm and cool against your heated skin.

            “Good, Y/N. Is this what you imagined?” He dips his head down and brings his lips to your neck, sucking gently.

            You decide to let your head fall back instead, giving him access to your pulse and your jawline. You’re about to try to answer him when your pager goes off in your bag. You look over at it. “I have to—”

            “Don’t think about it,” he says, twisting and curling his fingers, bringing his thumb to your clit and pressing firmly.

            Your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches, pushing your hips forward into his touch. You can barely speak. It’s almost squeaky when you say, “But I—”

            “Think about me,” he says, letting his breath trail up your neck and tugging on your ear with his teeth.

            It could be about the surgery. It could be a typical medicine order. It could be an emergency. It could be a routine patient update. It could be a code blue. It could be very important or nothing at all. But all you know for sure is that it’s not Seungcheol. Fuck…you could lose your job if your luck is very bad today. The problem is that you can’t stop.

            You keep one arm wrapped around his back and bring the other hand to his thick black hair, threading your fingers through it as he leaves warm wet spots on your neck. Your words come out as breaths. “I am. I am thinking about you. I want you. All of you.”

            You can feel him smile against your skin. He says, “That’s what I want to hear.”

            His fingers leave you. You nearly whine at the loss of pleasure, but watching Seungcheol look directly into your eyes and bring his fingers to his mouth gives you a similar sort of feeling in your stomach. “Seungcheol…”

            He slides his fingers from his lips and immediately lifts you again, off the table, kissing at your jaw as he carries you over to the couch and lays you back, kneeling over you. “Let me see all of you,” he husks, pushing your shirt up before you grab for it and slip it over your head. You knew that the smile was already coming. He really does have a nice smile. “Very good,” he says again. “You do match.”

            He gazes hungrily at you and you’re desperate for the feeling of any part of him touching you again. So you reach up, hook your fingers into the cups of your bra, and watch him stare as you drag them downward, exposing your breasts.

            “Gorgeous,” he breathes out, and he takes one in his hand and dips his head down to mouth at the other. You sigh and hold the back of his head, keeping back noises when he bites or sucks or flicks his tongue against your nipple. His other thumb presses circles into your nipple, and at the same time he brings his knee between your legs and rubs against your aching arousal.

            A soft moan escapes your lips. “Seungcheol.”

            He leaves a final pull on your nipple and gazes up at you, still smiling. “Ready, Doctor?”

            You are. _So_ ready. Ready to see the rest of his body and ready to feel him inside you and his skin against yours and ready to hear him make a few sounds in that luscious deep voice instead of just you, and far back in your mind ready to get to the surgery on time but that’s not what matters right now. So you nod. “Fuck me.”

            He chuckles low again and gets up on his knees, one still brushing against your clothed heat and making you chew your lip. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver packet, dropping it onto your belly.

            You don’t know whether you should feel relieved or—

            “Don’t feel like I’ve been expecting this. You’re not…” He trails off and thinks. “It’s more that I was hoping. I’ve been waiting for a while. I started to think I wasn’t your type or something.”

            Someone who knows your job and the work you put into it and the stress and absolute pride you get out of it, who understands all the medical jargon you spew out every day, someone who does what you ask without question and with a smile even if he has to because it’s his job, someone who is gorgeous and calls you gorgeous, someone who waits _this long_ for your stubborn self who gave no real signs that you were going to even try? Yeah. _Totally_ not your type.

            No—if Seungcheol isn’t what you’ve been waiting for in some horribly romantic sense of the phrase for all this time, then you don’t even know who is.

            “No, I—so have I,” is all you can think to say.

            He smiles gently. “You should have said something sooner.”

            Right about now, you really wish you had. “I know. I’m not the kind of person who does this stuff and…”

            You can’t finish because he slips his pants down from his hips along with his underwear (also black, you notice; it seems to be his color) before kicking it all off the sofa.

            You have a second to thank whatever is keeping people away from the door to this room for doing it. Jeonghan politely steering people off like a traffic cop flashes into your mind before you shove him away. Which is considerably easy when you’re looking at _this_.

            Put simply, the rest of Seungcheol’s body is just as appealing as what you had already seen.

            He smiles as you look at him and says, “But you’re here, aren’t you.” He opens the condom and starts rolling it on.

            You swallow and meet his eyes with effort. “I suppose I am.”

            He reaches for your panties and slides them down your hips. You unhook your bra and toss it where he drops your panties, creating a neat little red lace pile. “I’m very glad,” he says, settling between your legs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I honestly thought you might say no to me, even if you did want it.”

            You sigh in embarrassment and nod. “I know. I can’t tell you how many times people have called me up _tight_ — _oh_.”

            He pushes into you in one go, filling you completely. Your back bows off the sofa and your nails dig into his shoulders. A small whine comes from your throat as he pulls back and pushes forward again once.

            His lips part a little and he gives a strangled half laugh, half moan. “You could say that,” he says. “Jesus, Y/N, you’re…”

            Yeah. It really has been a while. Which is probably one reason why it already feels _so_ _good_. You slide your hands to his hips and pull, telling him to move.

            He starts thrusting at a deep, steady pace. “God, you really are gorgeous,” he breathes. “Four weeks of looking at you, saying those meaningless things to you in passing, knowing you were watching me but not being sure if I should do something. Christ, I’ve wanted you so bad.”

            “ _Seungcheol_. You’re—you feel amazing.” You wrap your leg around his hips and pull him close.

            “Y/N…god…”

            He rolls his hips deep and brushes your spot. You gasp loudly and cover your mouth, biting down on your own hand to try and stay quiet, but whines and soft moans still come through.

            When you can keep your eyes open, you watch him while he fucks you. You watch the way he disappears inside you, the way his abs tighten with the movements of his hips, the way his dark hair falls in his face, the way his eyes clench shut and he breathes ragged. He bites down on his lip and you realize that you want desperately to kiss him. You realize that you’ve wanted it the entire time you’ve known him.

            Your pleasure is building rapidly in your stomach, already half there from his fingers inside you. It won’t be long before it bursts. “Seungcheol. Please.”

            He opens his eyes and smiles at you again. From this angle and with his hair falling like that and the redness of his lips and the light sheen of sweat on his brow—that mixed with the pleasure he’s putting inside you and sending throughout your entire body—it’s one of the prettiest things you’ve experienced in a very long time. And he says, “Are you close, gorgeous?”

            You just nod. You’re extremely close, and already feeling so much more than when you’re alone in your bed and fantasizing about him. What’s between his legs is a hundred times better than anything you can do with your hands, and you’re pretty sure maybe that much better than anyone you’ve been with before. If you could be making more noise, you know you’d be louder than anyone else has ever made you. And then—

            You gasp again. “Seungcheol! _Ahh_. Just— _please_ make me—”

            “Shhh.” He laughs quietly and starts kissing your neck again, being a gentleman and not leaving any marks. His fingers are back to playing with your clit, stimulating you doubly, and the fire in your stomach is about to explode. Your body is trembling and your arms are tight around him, and another few thrusts have you coming with a silent scream, mouth in an O, fingers tugging at the back of his hair. You pulse around him and he groans into your neck.

            “Y/N…”

            “Seungcheol. Go on.” You push your hips up off the sofa to meet him, and soon his hips stutter and his thrusts become erratic and he spills into the condom, burying his sounds in your shoulder, saying your name against your skin.

            When he finally stops, and you’ve both lain there breathing, bodies sticking to each other, he lifts up onto his elbows and looks down into your blushed face.

            “Wow,” he says.

            “What?” you whisper back.

            He shakes his head. “Nothing. Gorgeous.”

            Something inside you makes you bring your hands to his face and pull him down. Your lips meet, and he seems hesitant with surprise at first until he kisses you firmly, sweetly, just barely sliding his tongue against yours before pulling back and staring into your eyes.

            “Does that mean you liked it?” he asks with a tone like maybe he’d known the answer to that before you even started.

            You smile and shake your head. “Mmm…only if you did.”

            “Then I guess we’re in mutual agreement.”

            You laugh softly and pull him into another long kiss. And then you brush his cheek gently and say, “I have to get dressed. I think I’ve run out of time already.”

            “Six minutes,” he says.

            You raise your eyebrows. “Really? We did well.” You sit up and he doesn’t need to but he helps you stand, placing a hand on your lower back. You smile at him before picking your scrubs and underwear up off the floor as you head into the bathroom again. You dress and fix your hair in the mirror, hoping the obvious blush on your cheeks goes away soon. Hoping you don’t smell too distinctly like sex and knowing you’re probably out of luck. You hear the coffee maker turning on out in the lounge and you smile.

            You go back out and he’s standing there, unfortunately clothed, hair perfect once again, looking like nothing ever happened. You shake your head at him. “I don’t know how you do it.”

            He shrugs. “It’s kind of like waking up for us guys. You have it tough.”

            You laugh without humor. “Tell me about it.” And then you remember that your pager went off in the middle of your little liaison. “Oh shit.” You go to your bag.

            “I hope it wasn’t too important,” he says, coming up behind you.

            You scoff. “You didn’t seem too worried about it at the time.” You open the message.

            “I was too mesmerized,” he says, placing a hand on your waist and a kiss under your ear.

            “Oh thank god,” you say, closing the message.

            “No dead people?” he asks.

            You laugh a little. “No dead people. My surgery was shifted back half an hour.” You sigh in relief and tuck your pager away in your bag.

            Seungcheol’s hand squeezes your waist. “There, that’s good, right? No worries.”

            You look over your shoulder at him. “You’re just fortunate, I think.”

            He clicks his tongue and turns you to face him. “Maybe. Listen, Y/N. I think I want to see you again.”

            You blink and hold back a girlish blush, your heart speeding up in your chest. Is this real? How long has it been since a guy has made a point to spend time with you? You suppose all it took was someone who actually understands your job. You say stupidly, “We see each other almost every day.”

            He chuckles. “I mean outside of work. How about I take you to dinner.”

            “Tonight?

            “Yes.”

            “I have to check my schedule.”

            There’s a long pause between the two of you while you just look at each other. Eventually Seungcheol says, “So tonight then?”

            You laugh and nod. “Yes. Tonight would be great. I’m off at—”

            “Six-thirty, right?”

            You tilt your head at him. “How do you know? Aren’t you done at five?”

            He shrugs and looks elsewhere. “I’ve stayed late a few times. There’s someone I like to see for as long as I can.”

            The blush happens whether you want it or not this time. “Oh.”

            His beautiful smile again. “And I’ll stay late today. We’ll go together. Do you mind me wearing scrubs to a restaurant?”

            You shake your head. “You definitely wouldn’t be the first. And I like your scrubs anyway. Your back fills them nicely.”

            He lifts an eyebrow. “Just my back? Or other parts of me too?”

            You look around as if someone has spoken to you from somewhere else. “Jeonghan, is that you?”

            He grins and kisses you again, which you happily accept, giving it back. He says softly against your lips, “Why don’t you go first and I’ll wait a few minutes.”

            You nod. “All right.” You kiss him one more time before smiling at him and heading for the door. “Tonight?” you ask, making sure.

            He goes to the counter and leans against it. “Mhm. And I know you don’t need it but good luck, Doctor,” he says, pouring himself coffee and taking a sip, gazing at you over the rim of his cup.

            You stop in the open doorway, wondering how he could possibly know exactly what to say. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s just the kind of person who says the right things. You just smile at him and say softly, “Thank you.” You don’t leave.

            Seungcheol taps his two fingers against the cup. “I like this moment but if you want to keep it on the down low you might want to stop staring and get out of the doorway.”

            You blush and tisk at him. “I’m not staring.”

            He nods. “Sure, gorgeous.”

            There’s a loud, dramatic, unabashed gasp from somewhere down the hallway.

            You get even redder and give Seungcheol a quick apologetic look before turning and heading pointedly down the hallway. “Jeonghan!”

            “How’s walking, gorgeous?”

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Tumblr by say-the-name-xvii


End file.
